The Junior Consulting Detective in The Sign of Three
by The Reckless of 1998
Summary: The wedding of Dr. John Watson and Mary Morstan has arrived and so has Sherlock's moment for his speech. But for these guys a normal day isn't ordinary. There's a killer in the room and it's up to Sherlock, John and Alex to find the murderer before time runs out. All the Junior Consulting Detective wanted was some wedding cake but he couldn't pass up a case involving murder. SEQUEL
1. Chapter 1

**The Junior Consulting Detective: The Sign of Three**

**Here it is guys – The Sign Of Three. After two days of that authors note on my first story I was met with plenty of positive support and feedback. So I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. **

**Just a heads up for new readers, DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU'VE READ MY FIRST STORY – The Junior Consulting Detective, otherwise you'll have no clue to who Alex is. I know there is a greater time span difference for Sherlock's death but let's just pretend, hey ;) Anyways, I wrote this up from all my notes from ideas of how Alex would be in this and I think it's gone fairly good. Now I'll let you guys have a read and see what you think**

_**Chapter 1 **_

'Please be quiet.' Sherlock hissed through his teeth as he massaged his temples, the laptop screen light highlighting his face. I don't even glance up from reading the crumpled newspaper on the Waters family bank robberies.

'I didn't say anything. Again. I haven't said anything for the last _hour_.' It's been quiet in here for the last hour since Uncle John and Mary came round before getting just a whiff of how stressed Dad seems before hastily running off. I sigh as I drop the paper; thinking of all the ways Uncle Greg isn't doing right in catching the Waters family. As I stand up from the sofa, I accidently trip (Damn these new shoes Mrs. Hudson decided to buy me) As I fall over my own feet I land on a certainly painful remote control and, well, lets just say my Dad isn't to happy when a remote control police car drives straight into his leg, causing him pain and more importantly interrupting his precious silence. Thanks Uncle Greg.

'Damn!" Sherlock cries as he springs from his seat as if burned. I feel myself flush crimson as he glares at me.

'Sorry.' I murmur as I quickly dash across to the opposite side of the table, sitting down and playing with two loose treads, one from my jumper the other from my shorts and twirl them around.

'I can't do this!' Sherlock picks up the newly bought book, the bold title gleaming in the laptop screen light: _How to write an unforgettable best man speech. _

If Uncle John saw what lengths Dad's going to with this I think he'd be as creeped as I am, but sort of flattered. Creeped but flattered.

'I need help.' Sherlock says to himself as he re-sits at the table.

'You don't need to tell me that. We all need help in this family.' I laugh but Dad doesn't hear me. Wow he really is taking this seriously. I step up from my seat and walk round to see what he's written so far. As if he only just noticed I existed, he turned to face me, with some sort of fascination.

'You talk to other people. You talk to John; in fact you're pretty close. Any good stories?' I smile at Dad.

'I know a few,' I open my mouth to tell him of the time John walked around in a pair of uncomfortable underwear upon losing a bet with me, but I stop. 'It's got to be your own words Dad. Besides, my story telling style is different to yours.'

'I can put it into my own form. Don't underestimate me.' I sigh and see the blinking curser on the blank document page. Nothing. He's stumped. I move back around to my own seat and pick up the nearest book on the table. I smile at the leather bound covering of my favorite story: _The Hobbit_. Uncle John used to read it to me when I was little. In fact he read to me again not to long ago, doing to voices as if I were a mere child (I may only be 10 but I'm not 10). Once up to the introduction of the dragon, Smaug, Dad actually criticized Uncle John's lame attempt at the voice and he himself demonstrated. He, Sherlock Holmes, demonstrated impersonating a dragon's voice. I can't help but grin as I look at Dad thinking of his 'dragon voice', he claimed to have inhaled too much helium that day on an experiment for it to go to his head. Yeah right.

'Wait,' Dad looks up at me as if sensing my thoughts on the event, but his topic is unrelated: 'others can help me. What about Grahame?' I look at Dad as if he's stupid – a big insult to any Holmes.

'Who?'

'Grahame?' Sherlock looked at me as if _I'm_ the idiot. 'The man who bought you…' He pulled up the toy police car by its back wheels. '…this infernal thing.' I roll my eyes as he makes sense.

'You mean _Greg_.' Sherlock looked hesitant before handing me his phone.

'Text him, get him over here now.' I scroll through the brief messages between Uncle Greg and dad to establish their tone towards each other.

'How urgent should I put it?' I ask as my thumb hovers over the keypad.

'I don't care. If you won't help me then get him here as soon as possible.' I shrug as I began to type, Dad flicked through the pages of the book again, frowning here and there. As he did I sent in total about four messages to Uncle Greg to establish how serious this situation is. Don't judge; believe me you don't live with Sherlock Holmes when he's hell bent on doing something he's stuck at.

'Is this alright?' I ask but Dad's in another world now. I look over the messages, wondering if they make the situation at hand slightly more dramatic than usual.

'**HELP.'**

'**BAKER ST. NOW.'**

'**HELP ME.'**

'**PLEASE.'**

The last two are really how I feel about spending the night here with Sherlock pacing up and down with mental stress. I just hope Uncle Greg isn't doing anything too important right now; I may have put him off. Just a bit.

'Did you send them?'

'Yeah, I made it…quite serious so he should be here soon.' I re-picked up my book and began to read, ignoring the distant helicopter sounds. It was only after nearly ten minutes when the claxon sounds raced up the street and the once distant helicopter became too loud to bear did I draw myself away from my book.

'Can't get any peace here.' I mutter as the front door slams, too loud for Mrs. Hudson, followed by heavy breathing and fast pace steps up the stairs. Detective Inspector Lestrade, known as Uncle Greg, appeared at the top of the stairs. There he is, as if the world is ending with Sherlock staring intensely at the screen again whilst I glance between them both.

'What's up? Uncle Greg asked, despite being short of breath.

'This is hard.' Sherlock practically breathed the words.

'What?" Greg's level of fear rising.

'Really. Hard. The hardest thing I've ever had to do.' As Sherlock kept his eyes on the screen he held up the Best-Man speech book. I realize I may have slightly over exaggerated. Again. 'Do you know any funny stories about John?'

Uncle Greg continues to pant, as if not getting it. Finally he manages to speak: 'What?'

'I need anecdotes. You didn't go to any trouble did you?' Sherlock asked as if he's ignorant of the heavy breeze through the window thanks to the helicopter, blowing papers across the room. Now I hide my face behind my book, as Uncle Greg looked ready to rip Sherlock's vocal cord from his throat whilst Sherlock only seems to notice the sudden 'breeze' blowing through the windows. After a blank stare, which lasted five minutes, Sherlock glanced at me and realized the 'seriousness' of the messages I sent.

Let's just say with the looks I'm receiving I wish I could just disappear into Middle-earth right now.

Yeah…this is life in 221b Baker Street. This is the life of a Holmes. This is me, Alex Holmes, hiding behind my book as my Dad, Sherlock Holmes, stresses over writing a best man's speech for the marriage of Mary Morstan and John Watson.

Oh what fun this is going to be.

**There we have it: the first installment of my own version of 'The Sign Of Three'. I'm not sure how this will turn out as I've never written my OC into an existing story before but I'll try my best. So what did you think? If you've got a sec I wouldn't mind hearing your opinions, they help a lot, thanks :D **


	2. Chapter 2

**The Junior Consulting Detective: The Sign of Three**

**Well hello there, long time no see my fellow Sherlockians! 8 months…wow I really am an ignorant lazy ass. Making you wait this long. I am so cruel, but it's who I am. So I thought I'd give you all a Christmas present since you've waited so long, but I bet a lot of you have given up on me. **

**I haven't just been sitting around, I have written a Harry Potter story on here on this account – feel free to check it out – and a lot of exams and new college, so yeah…NEW CHAPTER! I do hope these will become a regular thing again as I love the character of Alex playing hell with Sherlock and John's lives. I wish I'd only brought him in a few series ago and played through them, but oh well. **

**So, with further ado, after an 8-month wait – be fair, I'm not as bad than Steven Moffat at making you wait for a new series – CHAPTER 2!**

_**Chapter 2 **_

When the day of Uncle John and Mary's wedding finally arrived, I knew from the early morning this day would kill me.

I've met Mary more than once, as she and Uncle John have taken me out a few times – there is only so long two Holmes can stay under a roof together – so I've gotten to know her pretty well and understand she's perfect for my Uncle, but my Dad – Sherlock - is another matter. I've noticed since Mary and John announced their engagement that Sherlock has been...well, weird. Ok, more weird than usual. I mean, a lot of people think he's a psychopath already – some people just don't know anything – but Dad's been crazy, rushing things a long. I suppose he see's this wedding like I see the plasters all over my knees: better to rip them off quickly and have it over and done with than hang around.

Uncle John was all Dad had at one point. But I supposed if I weren't here he'd be a lot worse than just making napkins into the Sydney Opera house.

Since the wedding fell on a Saturday, I expected I'd have to get up early, I just never expected _this. _

As soon as seven o'clock struck, Sherlock came bursting into my room, all too aware of the heavy-duty microscope I leave on my floor as he jumps over it to stand by the side of my bed.

'Alex. Alex, get up.'

'Leave me alone,' I grumbled into my pillow as Sherlock beckoned me out of bed. Which was toasty and warm, unlike outside in the cold British spring weather.

'I need your help.'

'Oh lord, not again.' I grumble. For a Holmes to ask for help…well…it's rare. There are more brain cells in Anderson then the amount of times a Holmes asks for help. Dad has only asked me for help twice before now: Last night's wonderful adventure with Uncle Greg who looked ready to slaughter us both. And the time Dad got his hair stuck in the toaster. Don't ask; let's just say he never wanted to find a conclusion to an investigation so badly. I wriggle further under the warm sheets, until they are ripped away and I'm left on the mattress in my pyjamams and the cold air.

'Dad!' I open my eyes and see Sherlock cocking an eyebrow.

'Come downstairs now, I need your help before Mrs. Hudson drags you off to get dressed.' I'm too awake now to protest much so I climb out of bed and follow the hem of Sherlock's robe out of my room and down into 221B's living room. Sherlock is already dressed beneath his robe as he stands in the centre of the rug. The room had collected an assortment of things from all of Sherlock and John's investigations and travels, cluttering up walls and occasionally the floor space. I look to my left and see, propped up besides his violin sheet music, was a MP3 docking station. Sherlock shuffles up right in front of me and grabs my hand.

'Wait…you're not…' Too late. The music begins to play and I find myself as Sherlock Holmes's dance partner. I recognize the music, as Sherlock's own playing so I suppose it's a decoy in case Mrs. Hudson found out. She'd tell everyone and neither of us would be able to look another in the eye ever again.

'Dad…I'm flattered but I'm not a dancer.' I say as Sherlock leads.

'I know Alex, your dancing is appalling, I've seen you in your room. But today is John and Mary's wedding and you will be expected to dance. And I also need to practice.'

'I know the whole 'Best Man' dances with the 'Bridesmaid' thing but I'm ten! The only person I can dance with is Mary's friend's little girl who follows me everywhere! It's disturbing!' I sudden at the thought of the little four year old trailing me when she met me at John and Mary's a few months back. I shudder again with this experience, as long as Joey or no one else from school hears about this, I'll live it down.

Sherlock leads the dance and I become increasingly distraught by it. To top it off, the living room door slowly opens for Mrs. Hudson to stand on the threshold, with the tray of morning tea in her hand, a smile on her face in shock and glee as Sherlock dances around the living room to his music, with me dressed in the little red pyjama's that Sherlock's mother sent me last Christmas. Sherlock noticed the intrusion just as soon as I did.

'Mrs. Hudson. Please help. Call 999, the Government, Uncle John, _anyone! _Please help me!' I say as Sherlock slowly leads the dance in a circle.

'Shut up Mrs. Hudson,' Dad says as she feels the eyes watching us.

'I haven't said a word!' Our elderly landlady exclaimed as she still watched us in awe, clearly wishing she had a camera.

Sherlock sighed. 'You're formulating a question and it's rather painful watching you think.' Sherlock lets go of my hands, which I snatch back as she slumps over and switches off the music.

'Well the last of my human dignity has been destroyed,' I say with mock glee and sit down on the floor before Uncle John's armchair.

'I thought it was one of you two playing,' Mrs. Hudson spoke as she shuffled in with the tea tray.

'It _was_ me…playing. I am composing.' Sherlock leans over the desk and scribbles out some notes.

'You two were _dancing_.' She said, the awe not yet worn off.

'Not from free will, believe me.' I mumble as Mrs. Hudson hands me a plate of jam and toast and a cup of tea.

'I was road-testing.' Dad speaks flatly to avoid the confirmation, as I will do in future conversations.

'You were what?'

'Why're you here?' Sherlock drops his pen and turns around.

'I'm bringing you your morning tea and Alex's toast, neither of you are usually up at this time.'

'You bring us tea in the morning?' Sherlock sat down in his own leather seat.

'Well where did you think it came from?' Mrs. Hudson laughed as she poured out Sherlock's drink. Sherlock looked quizzing over at me and I shrugged; I had no idea it was Mrs. Hudson who brought it. It was always just…there.

'I don't know. We both thought it just sort of happened.' Sherlock stated as he accepted the drink.

'You're mother has a lot to answer for,' the landlady says and I chuckle, knowing all too well that my Grandmother – or Nana as she likes me to call her – had a lot of things to answer to, for both Dad and Uncle Mycroft. The woman could be extremely smothering at times. She and Mrs. Hudson both knitted me more clothes than I needed and made a fuss at how skinny I am. Especially 'Nana' as she and 'Grandpa' lived out in the country and didn't see me often.

'Hmm.' Sherlock hummed. 'I know. I have a list…Mycroft has a file.' Trust Uncle Mycroft to have a file of all things.

Mrs. Hudson gave a small happy chuckle as she sat down in Uncle John's old armchair and patted my dark curls.

'So! It's the big day!' She said thoroughly.

Sherlock sipped his tea before asking 'What big day?' Mrs. Hudson was certainty shocked at that statement.

'The wedding! John and Mary getting married!' She gasped as if the idea of forgetting a wedding was a terrible thing.

Sherlock took a deep breath and I know for a fact he is going to summarize the idea of the wedding.

'Dad…don't….' I say between bites of my toast but it goes unheard.

'Two people who currently live together are going to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday and then carry on living together. What's big about that?' I actually wonder myself, it seemed people paid a lot of money for this one-day thing when it could be spent on maybe a high definition microscope or something interesting like an autopsy viewing.

'It changes people, marriage.' Mrs. Hudson spoke softly as she picked out a comb and began to tackle my hair.

'Umm, no it doesn't.' Dad states and I give a small chuckle before a coughing fit from a toast crumb. Mrs. Hudson pats me on the back and Dad sends me a small smile.

'Well, you wouldn't understand cause you always live alone.'

'Hey! I'm here too!'

'Yes dear, but you're only little and don't understand how big a wedding is to some people.' I roll my eyes and see Sherlock do the same. Sherlock pauses for breath before going in for a low blow:

'Your husband was executed for double murder, you're hardly an advert for _companionship_.' Dad states before sipping his tea and I cringe at the audacity, but Mrs. Hudson just beats it away.

'Marriage changes you as a _person_. In ways that you can't imagine.'

'Same effect as a lethal injection,' I pointed out crudely but Mrs. Hudson just stuffed my face with the last of my toast as Sherlock silently chuckled with his stretched out smile. Mrs. Hudson began on her long tale and both Sherlock and me could feel the boredom creeping up on us.

'My best friend – Margaret - she was my chief bridesmaid, we were going to be best friends forever, and we always said that. But, after that, I hardly saw her.' Dad clearly isn't interested in this conversation as he asks an irrelevant question about biscuits. I'm not trilled by Mrs. Hudson's story but I pretend to care and listen as Uncle John told me to do when people talk. I do this a lot.

'I've run out,' Mrs. Hudson answered Dad's question.

'At the shops?'

'She cried the whole day, saying: 'It an end of an era!'' Dad is up and pacing around, trying to get Mrs. Hudson to leave.

'I'm sure the shop on the corner is open.' But Mrs. Hudson goes on, much to both our dismay.

'She was right probably.' I cringe inwards and send a message via glare to Sherlock.

'_Get. Her. Out.' _My look probably said and I can see Sherlock is itching to do just that.

'I remember she left early. I mean who leaves a wedding early? So sad.' Mrs. Hudson sighed and I groaned silently knowing it wasn't the end.

'Anyway,' Dad said, 'you've got things to do.'

'No not really, I've got plenty of time to-'

'Biscuits!' Dad finally snapped and Mrs. Hudson jumped from Uncle John's seat and marched out of the living room.

'I really am going to have a word with your mother.' She snapped back as she left. I follow behind her and stand besides Dad.

'You can if you like, she understands very little.' Sherlock stated before slamming the door. Just as I turn to Dad it re-opens, Mrs. Hudson sticks her head back in.

'Alex, come downstairs in a bit and I'll finish your hair.' She states plainly before leaving again and I feel my curls have been half formed into a 'formal' style and I groan. Sherlock gives me another stretched smile before I see his eyes cast away, lost on Uncle John's old seat, the dust particles floating dreamily in the sunlight beams. It's oddly quiet without him hear, I realize and I can tell it upsets Dad. He casts his eyes away ad heads through the kitchen towards his own room; I follow him at his heel.

'Better not let Nana hear you say that about you, she won't be too pleased.' I stifle a laugh and Sherlock messes up my hair, something he knows I do not like and in full knowledge I will no have to re-suffer Mrs. Hudson combing and re-combing and plastering my curls to my head.

'Thanks Dad.' I grumble as he pulls out his suit for the wedding from his wardrobe.

'Right then, Alex,' Sherlock looked down at me, a strange look in his eyes. 'Into battle.'

**Chapter 2 is done! What an achievement! And don't worry; I'll have the next chapter up before the New Year! I know, skeptical right? But it shall be up pre-2015! I hope you all liked it, getting back into the Junior Consulting Detective mood! More action to come, the wedding, and I'll introduce Mary! So please Review and I'll have it up soon! **


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